


30 kisses - Skwistok

by Korpikaazi



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: 30 Kisses Challenge, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lust, M/M, needed motivation, skwistok - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korpikaazi/pseuds/Korpikaazi
Summary: A collection of Skwistok drabbles based around the 30 kisses list (omicron). Brace yourselves for extreme levels of fluffy drabble! (You have been warned...)





	1. Themes 1 - 5

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I completely shamelessly stole this idea from someone who wrote for a different set list. My writing mojo was ebbing and I wanted something to focus on. I haven't really properly stuck to the rules either - it's meant to have a general 'weather' theme in all stories but I'm not good enough to get it in all the time.
> 
> Each theme is its own separate story, so the timelines/scenarios won't necessarily match up. If anything's completely AU I'll point it out.
> 
> Updates will be slow as I'm... well, slow! Unless I get better at brevity (something I'm trying to work on!), chapters will be added 5 themes at a time!
> 
> (Also I haven't slept nearly enough and this is un-beta'd, so if you spot any issues, please do let me know! As always, reviews and con crit are very welcome!)
> 
> Merry Christmas!

**#1: Melting**

I don’t know how you managed it, Toki.

I didn’t notice it happening.

Years it took me to build up the walls of ice that became my haven. My prison.

Years of nameless, faceless bodies to build the calluses.

An impenetrable barricade to stop anyone getting in. To stop me getting out.

Yet every smile; every laugh; every argument; every time you fuck up in the studio; every time you look at me with those stupid puppy eyes of yours…

Bit by bit, those walls have been melting. I didn’t know it until the moment I felt your lips on mine. Suddenly, there you were – inside the walls I’d cultivated so carefully, for so long.

Somehow, some way, you melted your way into my heart.

And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you out again.

 

**#2: Broken Glass**

A crash from the living room had Skwisgaar reluctantly peeling himself off of his bed to investigate. Looking through the doorway, he found Dethklok’s newest recruit standing by the bookcase, a sea of broken glass around his feet and a fearful look in his wide blue eyes.

“Skwisgaar, I… I’s so sorries…”

“Toki?” The Swede’s eyes roved over the mess on the cramped room’s floor. His eyes caught on the colour of some of the pieces of glass on the floor, before roving to the now empty space on the shelf of the bookcase where his custom made glass Gibson Thunderhorse model had previously sat.

“Toki! You’s fucking… that was my… fucks yous, you useless dildos!”

Toki flinched at Skwisgaar’s raised voice, but Skwisgaar found he didn’t care if the younger man was frightened. He wanted him to be frightened. That model had cost a shit ton of money and Skwisgaar was royally pissed off.

“You’d bester clean dis shit up, and den you know what you’ve got to do, fucktard.”

 _Get yourself 3 jobs and go buy me another one,_ Skwisgaar thought angrily to himself, ignoring the logical part of his brain that was telling him that Toki was still an illegal, probably underage resident in the country and Charles had already told them that there was no way they were to make Toki go out and work. Slamming the door to his bedroom to really emphasise how furious he was, Skwisgaar sat grumpily on his bed, grabbing his real Gibson and playing fast, angry licks.

Several hours later, the Swede felt a pang of hunger that pulled him from the guitar based trance he’d slipped into. He glanced at the clock on his wall and saw that he had about an hour before the rest of the band started to get home from their various shitty jobs. He preferred to eat in the quiet before the storm of the rest of Dethklok, so he headed out towards the kitchen in search of anything vaguely nutritious. However, as he passed through his living room on the way out to the kitchen, a bizarre sight stopped him in his tracks.

“Toki? What de fucks ams you doings?”

The young Norwegian was kneeling next to the bookcase Skwisgaar had found him next to hours earlier, his shirt removed and folded neatly on the edge of the sofa. As Skwisgaar approached, he could see that Toki was shaking almost violently, his head hanging low, allowing his chin length hair to obscure his face.

When the Norwegian didn’t respond to Skwisgaar’s question, the blond approached him cautiously. He’d noticed Toki’s certain… quirkiness the moment he moved in, but this was a particularly weird thing for him to be doing.

“Toki yous weirdo, get ups off of da floor!”

The teenager visibly flinched at Skwisgaar’s tone. When he spoke, his voice was no more than a whisper. “Vennligst ikke gjør meg vente lenger…”

_Please don’t make me wait any longer._

Skwisgaar screwed his face up in confusion. “Waits?” he asked, filtering between languages as fast as he could, “Waits for whats?

As he spoke, Skwisgaar had reached out a hand towards the Norwegian. He recoiled as he felt thick cloud of terror rolling off of the young boy in waves. What on earth was going on?

“Avstraffelse.”

_Punishment._

Hesitantly, Toki raised his eyes to meet Skwisgaar’s. The icy depths were lost in a bottomless pit of fear. Suddenly, Skiwsgaar felt the strange pieces click into place.

Toki’s eyes instantly snapped back to the floor before him as Skwisgaar darted behind Toki. There the Swede’s eyes opened in horror as he saw the latticework of wounds marring the teenager’s back. Welt upon welt was laid across the thin flesh there, some marks clearly years old and long since scarred; many clearly much more recent, their edges red and angry.

His own hand unusually unsteady, Skwisgaar knelt down and gently touched the marks on Toki’s back, feeling him shudder – whether from fear or pain, Skwisgaar didn’t know. Shuffling around on his knees, Skwisgaar stopped in front of his new guitarist and placed his hands on the downcast, flushed cheeks.

“Toki,” he murmured, stroking one thumb across a flushed cheek. “Look at me.”

Arctic eyes hesitantly raised to meet Skwisgaar’s.

“Toki,” Skwisgaar started firmly, his gaze staying fixed on Toki’s, “I promise yous, that I woulds never, evers, not evens in a billions, krillions years - not evens if you brokesed every one of mine possessions – I woulds _nevers_ hurts you dis way. No ones in dis band woulds. I swears, on Thor’s hammer, dat we will nevers beats you. Does you understands me?”

Skwsigaar felt a warm tear drop down the thumb still resting on Toki’s cheek. He silently brushed it away.

“Y-you… you means it?”

Toki’s eyes were filled with such amazement and hope that Skwisgaar felt his heart pound in his chest.

“Yes Toki, I means it.”

The Swede was taken slightly off guard as Toki leant forward buried his head into the space between his neck and his shoulder, his shaking finally beginning to diminish. He gently stroked the short brown hair and pressed a lingering kiss to the boy’s temple, feeling him finally relax fully.

Eventually, Toki pulled back slightly and gave a watery but genuine smile.

“Thanks you, Skwisgaar.”

The Swede smiled back, handing Toki his shirt. “Now though,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips, “you needs to promise me somethings.”

Toki cocked his head to one side, silently inviting Skwisgaar to explain.

“Promise mes you never mentions this to de rest of de band. I has a reportations to upskeeps.”

Toki laughed lightly as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I promise Skwisgaar. You has my word.”

 

**#3: Cold Sun**

Toki knelt by the frozen lake Nathan had dragged him from, uncaring of the snow steadily seeping its way into his trousers. A bright sun beat down on him, but he felt no warmth from its rays. The frost was within him, spreading through his veins with every beat of his heart.

It wasn’t long before he heard Murderface suggest that they retreat to the nearest bar kill off as many brain cells as possible. His proposition was met with rapid support and Toki soon heard the sound of retreating boots. Good. He didn’t need them seeing him like this.

The cold sun burned into his eyes, making him squint. He didn’t deserve the light it gave. He screwed his eyes shut and dug the heels of his hands into his sockets, the image of his father’s dying eyes burning through his brain. He killed him. Put him through the worst death ever. Toki’s body began to shake as the ice in his blood threatened to overcome him.

“Jeg beklager, far. Tilgi meg.” Toki whispered. “ _I’m sorry father. Forgive me_.”

A hand at his shoulder startled him. He flinched as he opened his eyes, expecting to see his father’s cold, dead eyes boring into him as he dealt him the ultimate discipline for committing the ultimate sin. With guilt he found himself relieved that he was not faced with his father, reincarnated to punish him, but with Skwisgaar, standing as tall as the mountain above him.

The Swede knelt down next to Toki in the snow, his hair shining a bright, blazing gold in the cold sun. His voice was uncharacteristically soft when he spoke.

“It wasn’t you’s faults, Toki.”

Toki looked desperately into Skwisgaar’s eyes, their colour so alive in the frozen, white wasteland around them. He saw no pretence in those electric blue orbs. No lies.

“Skwisgaar…” The last of his strength waning, Toki found himself collapsing into Skwisgaar’s shirt, shaking with uncontrollable tears. He didn’t have the power to feel the embarrassment he normally would.

A pair of lean arms wound their way around Toki’s shaking frame and he leaned into the embrace. As he clung onto his Swedish lifeline, he felt a soft kiss being pressed into the hair on the crown of his head.

Toki felt warmth surrounding him even as the cold sun shone in the sky.

**#4: “take it off…”**

The heat hit him like a train cinder block to the balls. “Ah fucks dis, I’ms takings off my fuckings shirts off.”

The rest of Dethklok soon followed suit and Skwisgaar sneered. Once a trendsetter, always a trendsetter.

As Nathan bemoaned his recent weight gain, Skwisgaar glanced across to see what had set Nathan off. One glance at their rhythm guitarist and the Swede could see exactly why their lead was feeling insecure. Confident in his own good looks, Skwisgaar didn’t feel jealousy when looking at the Norwegian’s tightly muscled body; however he did feel his blood rushing steadily south. Maybe this blues thing wouldn’t be such a waste of time after all.

Several frustrated hours later, Skwisgaar had yet to find a time to get Toki on his own. Throughout their hours in the sun, Toki’s skin had bronzed beautifully, making him stand out even more against the lobstered look of the rest of the band. Never before had Skwisgaar had to wait so long to have his lust sated. The only good thing the Swede could find about this whole situation was that he was finally beginning to feel the whole ‘blues’ thing that Mashed Potato Johnson kept going on about.

Just as Skwisgaar was thinking about that Devil, the old man turned towards the two guitarists, who were still attempting to slow their playing down and pick up that blues vibe. “Here nahw, whay don’t you two there go practise that some’ere ehlse? I need Nath’n ter fohcus on this here harmonica.”

Skwisgaar couldn’t agree fast enough, curling his hand around Toki’s thick forearm and dragging him out of the barn.

The moment they were out of view of the open door of the barn, Skwisgaar rounded a corner and pushed Toki forcefully against the wooden wall, pulling off his ridiculous Grandpa’s guitar and flinging it to the ground. To his surprise, Toki rapidly followed suit, his hollow guitar bouncing on the dry, cracked Earth. Skwisgaar looked into Toki’s face and for the first time realised that his own lust filled gaze was being reflected in Toki’s pale blue eyes.

Without hesitating, Skwisgaar pushed his lithe body against Toki’s rock solid one. He allowed himself a brief moment for a triumphant smirk before crushing his lips against Toki’s waiting ones. Instantly, Skwisgaar felt the tension that had been building explode through his veins. The feeling of Toki’s mouth against his own brought on feeling stronger than any one of thousands had before.

Skwisgaar didn’t allow himself time to ponder this surprisingly strong reaction. Instead, he ran his tongue along Toki’s lips, feeling Toki instantly reciprocate. Strong, hard arms wrapped themselves around Skwisgaar, one hand tangling in his long hair. The Swede had the unusual feeling of not being the one in control, but he found that the vulnerability only made the satisfaction of his lust even sweeter.

Sweat began to bead along Skwisgaar’s hairline as he heard Toki groan hungrily into his mouth. He ran one hand down the rhythm guitarist’s chiselled front, his fingertips tingling as he felt out every hard plane and angle his eyes had been devouring ever since they arrived in this god forsaken hell hole.

One of Toki’s hands remained tangled in Skwisgaar’s hair, gripping and tugging desperately at it; his other hand ventured downwards, skimming over the blond’s prominent hip bones before pulling him urgently forward by the waistband of his jeans. Skwisgaar readily allowed himself to be drawn flush against the growing hardness in Toki’s trousers. He growled deeply in his throat, biting down on Toki’s swollen lower lip.

Just as Toki’s callused fingers slipped around to begin unbuttoning Skwisgaar’s jeans, the Scandinavians heard the distinctive voice of Mashed Potato Johnson announcing that Nathan was ready and that they should start heading out to find somewhere to play. Exchanging panicked glances, Skwisgaar and Toki sprang away from each other, diving to pick up their absurd acoustic guitars before they were caught.

By the time Dethklok found the two guitarists, Skwisgaar was almost sobbing with the frustration of being so close yet so far. He could still feel the tingle where Toki’s body had pressed up against his own; electricity was still sparking from his fingertips where they had roved over Toki’s face and torso.; but the arrival of the rest of the band meant that he was simply left even more frustrated than he had been all day. It was like giving a starving man a taste of chocolate before taking it away, leaving mountains of food just out of reach.

Mashed Potato took one look at the sweaty, flushed faces of the two guitarists and the way they both awkwardly held their guitars over their crotches and nodded to himself, a wicked smile lighting on his face.

They were finally ready to play the blues.

 

**#5: Eyelashes**

Toki lay contentedly in Skwisgaar’s soft bed as the sun’s rays began to shine through the large picture windows. The Swede had fallen asleep not long ago, his chest rising and falling slowly with his steady breaths. Toki loved watching Skwisgaar sleep. The arrogant sneer, the perpetual frown – they were wiped away by the peace of slumber, leaving the striking face much younger and softer.

Propping himself up on his elbow, the Norwegian stared down at his lover. The sun’s rays made Skwisgaar’s golden hair glisten, flecks of light glittering on the soft locks. The more Toki studied the Swede’s face, the more he found to love about it. From his high, prominent cheekbones to his soft, thick lips, Toki stared as though trying to memorise every last inch.

As he watched Skwisgaar’s face, Toki noticed something he normally missed. Resting gently on the noble cheekbones, Skwisgaar’s eyelashes fell, dark and thick. Normally, Toki was too distracted by the mesmerising blue eyes to notice his eyelashes, but with the azure orbs veiled, he was free to admire the perfect, soft hairs that lined the infamous eyes.

Toki smiled to himself, wondering what he’d done to deserve the sort of happiness he could obtain just from watching the older man sleep. Leaning forward, he pressed a very light kiss to the eyelashes he’d been admiring.

Unfortunately not light enough.

Skwisgaar woke with a start, causing Toki to jump back guiltily.

“Toki? De fucks ams you doings?”

Toki’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Uhhh… nothings?”

Skwisgaar creased his eyebrows in disbelief, before relaxing and rolling his eyes. He grabbed Toki’s arm and rolled onto his side with it, holding onto it like a teddy bear.

“Pffft, kissing at mine eyes when he should be sleepings…” he mumbled, clearly drifting back off. “I picked the fucking weirdsest boyfriend…”

Toki had to work to resist letting out an excited squeak as Skwisgaar finished his sentence with a gentle snore. So what if he was more asleep than awake when he said it – Skwisgaar had called Toki his boyfriend. Grinning like a teenage girl, Toki settled down at Skwisgaar’s back, falling into a deep, contented sleep, his _boyfriend_ held securely in his arms.


	2. Themes 6-10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I didn't get any faster at updating. Still, I enjoyed writing these. Please let me know of any mistakes/issues and enjoy the extreme levels of fluff :)

**#6: Shivering**

It was warm inside the Dethcopter, but still Skwisgaar could feel Toki shivering in his arms. The adrenalin rush from their escape had worn off now that they were safe in the copter, and Toki’s frail body seemed to be struggling without the hormone’s input. The blond held him tighter as the younger man’s shaking intensified, ragged breaths escaping from chapped lips. Skwisgaar could feel the rest of the band watching him intensely but he didn’t care. He couldn’t shake the sensation that if he let go of Toki for just a second, the boy would crumble and disappear into a heap of ragged, filthy clothes. Despite the putrid stench emanating from him, Skwisgaar buried his face into the hair at the side of Toki’s face, swallowing hard in a vain attempt to keep his emotions in check. Without allowing his brain to reconsider, he turned his face towards Toki’s grimy neck and pressed his lips over the rapid, thready pulse he felt there. The shuddering that had been wracking the younger man’s thin body subsided slightly as Skwisgaar felt a small shiver descend down his own spine. He smiled slightly against Toki’s grubby neck, a small bud of hope blossoming in his chest. Without hesitation, he pressed another kiss against the strengthening heartbeat. He would get Toki through this, whatever it took.

**#7: Frozen tears**

Screams echoed around the once beautiful ice amphitheatre in a frozen Lillehammer as shards of ice crashed down into the carnage going on below the stage. Nathan, Pickles and Murderface were admiring the bloodshed, elbowing each other and pointing out any time there was a particularly brutal disembowelment. The two Scandinavians in the band were however oblivious to the massacre going on around them. Skwisgaar was still leaning over Toki, his heart pounding with the sheer awfulness of the thought that he was about to lose his Norwegian counterpart.

“Toki… you ams okay?”

“Ja, no thanks to you, it was just a fuckings panics attack,” Toki grumbled, humiliation at the whole situation sharpening his voice.

Skwisgaar didn’t seem to take any notice of Toki’s tone. A fear driven tear collected in the corner of his eye, soon freezing up in the sub-zero air. “I t’oughts I was goings to lose you,” he murmured, placing a hand gently on the side of Toki’s cold face. Despite his embarrassment, Toki leaned into Skwisgaar’s touch.

“Skwis…” he sighed before continuing, “I… I’s sorry. For de book, for tryings to steal you’s thunder. For de endorsement deals… for everyt’ing. I… letsed it get to mine head. You trieds to warn me buts…”

Skwisgaar put a finger over his lips. “Is all forgotten, Tokis. I… may has deserveds somes of it. Some of it anyways.”

Toki laughed lightly, reaching up to grab some of the blond locks trailing over Skwisgaar’s shoulders. The ground shook as an enormous shard of ice tumbled off of the display and crushed a group of fleeing audience members to paste.

“Thanks you for tryings to help. Even though all yous did is makes me piss mine self.”

Skwisgaar grinned, another tear leaking unbidden from his eye before freezing on his face. Before he could reconsider, he closed the gap between their faces. The heat that filled him as their lips touched melted the tears that had frozen to his face, causing Toki to pull back slightly as one fell on his face. He moved his hand from Skwisgaar’s hair to his cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

Skwisgaar huffed a small laugh. “You looks like a complete dildoes, by de way,” he said, glancing down at Toki’s ridiculous outfit.

“Well everyone knows that the leads guitarist must dress like a douchebag,” Toki retorted, before pulling Skwisgaar down for another kiss before he could respond.

Watching from the side of the stage, Charles smiled as his two guitarists reconciled in a way none of them had expected. He was grateful that the destruction around them had everyone else distracted as his brain already began work on how this development could be broken to the media with the least impact on the world’s economy.

 

**#8: On a day like this**

Grey rain splattered on the windows as Toki curled further into Skwisgaar’s side. The weather had been utterly miserable and their plans to visit the water park had been completely scuppered. Initially, Toki had gone to Charles to demand that their scientists find a way to blow the rain clouds away and make the sun come out, but then Skwisgaar had suggested that they have a movie marathon and Toki had happily changed his mind (much to Charles’ relief).

Now, as the third Die Hard movie rolled onto the huge flatscreen TV on Skwisgaar’s wall, Toki found he was glad for the shitty weather. He’d spent one of the best days he could remember just hanging around with Skwisgaar, watching movies, eating junk food, drinking beer and making out. Normally, he had a very short attention span, but he was sure he could never get bored of Skwisgaar’s quiet company. There was no need for clever conversation, or for keeping up appearances. He could be himself, and Skwisgaar still wanted him around.

As he buried himself into Skwisgaar’s side, a long arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. A smile spread across his face as he nuzzled Skwisgaar’s chest. As the title credits of the movie lit up the screen, Toki felt Skwisgaar gently kiss the crown of his head. He sighed contentedly, closing his eyes.

“Loves you, Tokis.”

The Norwegian’s smile grew into a face splitting grin. Skwisgaar didn’t often say that, and so when he did, it never failed to make Toki’s heart fill. He realised that on a day like this, with cold, driving rain and overcast skies, he had his own personal ball of sunshine lying with him. He knew he didn’t deserve this happiness but he planned to cling onto it for as long as he could. He breathed deeply, inhaling the soft scent of his lover and his joy.

“Loves you too, Skiws. So much.”

**#9: Fog**

**_A/N: Sorry so sorry._ **

“Dis ams it then?”

Skwisgaar refused to meet his eyes. “Tokis… everything haves to end. We both be knowings that.”

“ _This_ doesn’t has to.”

The fog was swirling around them, rolling in waves off of the polluted lake.

“It does. Dere ams no Dethklok. Dere ams no Nat’an. Dere ams no musics and dere ams no _us_.”

“Skwis, _please_ …”

The Swede snatched his hand away from Toki’s desperately grasping one. “Don’ts call me that, Tokis, just… don’ts.”

Toki pulled his arm back to his body as though he’d been burnt. He cradled it against his chest, droplets of fog settling like diamonds in his hair.

“I doesn’t understands Skwsigaar, why must this..?”

Skwisgaar swallowed painfully, his throat stinging.

“Is because –“ A breath.

“Is because I don’ts loves you Tokis.

I never has.

I never will.

Dis ams never been what you wanteds it to be.”

Toki recoiled as if he’d been struck, his breath ragged in the mist. The stinging in Skwisgaar’s throat intensified.

“I don’ts believes you.”

The statement was whispered but Skwisgaar felt the power of it thrumming in his veins. Against his own will, he met Toki’s eyes. The open blue doors were swirling with a million feelings even as the fog swirled around their trembling bodies. So much hurt, so much pain, so much hope…

The Swede couldn’t take it. He turned to walk away.

A strong hand grabbed his wrist. He knew he physically stood no chance against Toki so he turned himself around, staring resolutely at the ground.

“Please, you owes it to me.” Toki’s other hand rested on his cheek, compelling him to raise his reluctant gaze. “Proves to me that you don’ts loves me.”

The kiss that Toki laid on his lips seared right through to his core, burning the fog around them in a blast of heat. The soft, gentle lips against his conveyed such a depth of adoration, of love, of desperation.

He pulled away. He had to, or else he would disintegrate right there into the fog. His forehead pressed against Toki’s as he breathed what he felt sure were his last breaths.

“I’ms sorries Toki. I don’ts loves you.”

Toki’s desperate wail followed him through the shrouds of fog as Skwisgaar’s heart broke for the last time.

 

**#10: Hat**

“Oof, dat’s cold,” Toki grumbled as the band headed out of the motel they’d been staying in, looking for the nearest bar. None of them had really been prepared for the colder states of their winter tour – the perpetually hot Florida weather had thrown out their seasonal clocks.

“Aww, de Norwegians ams too baby for a bit of cold.”

“Fucks you, Skwisgaar,” Toki pouted, pulling his chin into his scarf. “You’s de one dat made me throw aways mine hat.”

Skwisgaar wrinkled up his nose. “Dat t’ings was smellings like old man’s junk. Probablsklies was an bioklogical hazard.”

Toki crossed his arms over his chest. “Least it was warms,” he grumbled. Skwisgaar ruffled his hair.

A little further down the road, the band passed a small petrol station. Struck by an idea, Skwisgaar stopped off for a moment, dragging Toki with him. The rest of the guys trudged on, muttering something about alcohol killing coldness.

Just as the Swede had expected, there was a rack of dreadful woollen hats on display by the counter. He sent Toki off to go and buy himself some candy, (“Oh wowee Skwis, five bucks’ worth?!”) and set about choosing the worst hat he could find. He smirked as he found the perfect fit.

Toki bounded to the counter with a hand full of candy and a bright grin. Skwisgaar happily paid for the goods and handed the small plastic bag to the Norwegian, who promptly stuffed a chocolate bar into his mouth. “T’nks, Sshhvishghaar,” he garbled as they left the shop.

Skwisgaar reached into his back pocket. “I gotsed you a present,” he said, before jamming the orange and purple monstrosity over Toki’s head. The younger man stopped in his tracks, staring at the long plaited tassels that now sat over his shoulders. He felt up over his head, his fingers catching the giant fluffy bobble that sat on the top of the hat.

The look on Toki’s face took Skwisgaar by surprise. Instead of vaguely annoyed or amused, Toki’s eyes gleamed with gratitude as he patted his new, awful hat. A smear of chocolate sat on the corner of his grinning mouth and Skwisgaar felt a strange lurch. Shrugging and going with his instincts, he leaned forwards and captured Toki’s grinning lips with his own.

He tasted of chocolate and joy.

Pulling back, Skwisgaar flicked the bobble perched proudly on top of Toki’s head. “Liten Tokis, you ams so adorables,” he said, chuckling fondly.

(Adorable certainly wasn’t the word that Pickles used for Toki as he fell off of his stool in hysterics at the sight of their youngest member when the Scandinavians finally arrived at the bar.)


End file.
